


Curse Words

by orphan_account



Series: Merthur Drabbles [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gwen/Merlin friendship - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin attempts to disguise his magic by saying he's cursing. It backfires horribly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curse Words

    Merlin hated cleaning Arthur’s room more than any other chore he had. The drapes gathered dust like it was their job, the floor was strewn with crumbs, and clothing was thrown haphazardly every which way.

 

_Even the stables are cleaner_ , he griped mentally as he shook out the bedsheets. To be fair, he was partly responsible for the pile of clothes that lay on the floor, having thrown Arthur’s shirt the night before, but that didn’t mean he wanted to clean them up again. Merlin stole a glance out the door, then carefully shut it.

 

“ _Fyld_ ,” he commanded, and the clothes pile began to neatly sort itself into various heaps. However, steps sounded down the hallway, and the door opened with a creak. Merlin let the clothes drop to the floor as Arthur entered.

 

“I thought I heard voices,” he said suspiciously.

 

“No,” replied Merlin innocently. “Just me.”

 

“Who were you talking to then?” Arthur said, brow furrowing.

 

“Myself,” Merlin replied glibly. “I was...cursing.”

 

“Cursing,” repeated Arthur, arching a single brow.

 

“Yeah,” said Merlin, his mouth running faster than his brain. “In a dialect we have in Ealdor. Very obscure,” he said hopefully, looking at Arthur for a reaction. What he got was not what he expected at all.

 

“Teach me,” said Arthur, flopping onto the just-made bed, much to Merlin’s annoyance.

 

“What?”

 

“I said, teach me.” Arthur scratched his cheek idly. “It’s always fun to learn curse words in a different language. And you promised ”

 

“Uhh…” Merlin wracked his brains. The only other language he knew was the one magic spells were in, but if he chose the wrong word, he might reveal himself to Arthur.

 

“Oh come on, Merlin, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed,” Arthur teased. Merlin felt his ears grow warm, and gulped.

 

“ _Welpen_ ,” he blurted, crossing his fingers that nothing happened. Luckily, everything remained unchanged. “ _Welpen_ is a curse word.”

 

“ _Welpen_ ,” Arthur repeated to himself, quietly, then with more vehemence. “ _Welpen_!”

 

“Yeah, and...erm... _baðan_.” Unfortunately for Merlin, the bathtub then began to fill with water. His eyes widened with panic. Before Arthur could notice, Merlin shoved him towards the door.

 

“I’ve still got to clean the floors,” he babbled, “and you’ll just get in the way. Bye Arthur, love you loads, see you later!” He shut the door on Arthur’s protesting face, leaning against it. With a look, he stopped the bath barely an inch from overflowing, sighing with relief.

 

That was too close, he thought to himself, resuming his chores.

 

-M-

 

    Merlin and Gwen stood at the side of a field watching Arthur spar with the knights. Gwaine parried his blow and hit him in the side, causing Arthur to stumble.

 

“ _Welpen_!” Arthur hissed, plunging his sword into the grass.

 

“What’s he on about?” Gwen murmured, shooting a look at Merlin.

 

“I may have told him it was a curse in an obscure Ealdorian dialect,” he replied miserably, head in his hands.

 

“And?” said Gwen, prompting him for more.

 

“It’s not at all,” Merlin groaned.

 

“Well, what does it mean?” She asked, curly hair blowing in the wind.

 

“You’re not going to believe me,” answered Merlin.

 

“Oh go on then,” Gwen said, nudging Merlin.

 

“You have to promise not to laugh,” He said solemnly. Gwen nodded, her face carefully composed.

 

“All right,” Merlin sighed. “ _Welpen_ means...puppies.”

 

“Puppies?” Asked Gwen, her lips twitching.

 

“Puppies,” confirmed Merlin dejectedly. A moment passed, Gwen struggling valiantly not to laugh. However, her facade eventually cracked, and she bent double of the railing, gasping with laughter. Her mood was contagious, and it wasn’t long before Merlin’s sorrowful expression changed into one of mirth. He fell to the field, clutching his stomach as giggles continued to escape him. Arthur noticed the pair bent double, and stalked over to investigate.

 

“What’s so funny, then?” He demanded, but his appearance only set off another gale of laughter.

 

“Nothing, sire,” said Gwen, wiping tears away from her eyes. “Please, carry on.”

 

“Absolutely,” wheezed Merlin, still chuckling. Arthur gave them both a funny look, then turned to resume sparring.

 

“Oh dear,” Gwen chuckled. “He seems angry. I just hope he doesn’t keep cursing like that!”

 

“Stop, Gwen,” Merlin protested, still clutching his stomach. “You’re making me laugh again!” She leaned forward, looking Merlin dead in the eye.

 

“ _Welpen_ ,” she whispered, before cracking up once more. Merlin rolled on the ground with laughter, trying to lift himself up and failing. Gwaine shook his head in amazement at the two, who by now had been laughing for nearly five straight minutes.

 

“They’ve gone mad,” he observed. Arthur could do nothing but nod in agreement, staring at the two servants collapsing with laughter.

  
“I’ll have to get Merlin to tell me what was so funny,” he noted to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> My brother and I once did this to somebody, although it was somewhat more deliberate.


End file.
